Take My Hand
by Hecate18
Summary: (My first attempt) A BulmaVegeta get-together, a 'little' ::coughs:: angst, and I'd like to say it's a little different
1. Default Chapter

**Take My Hand **

A/N – A Bulma/Vegeta Get together, a short fic on how they're friendship grew. The idea came to me whilst listening to 'Dido – Take My Hand', it's not a song fic but I have based the fic on the song. 

Rating – PG-13 

Warnings – None 

Disclaimer – I do not own Dragon Ball Z or any of the characters, nor do I own 'Dido – Take My Hand'. 

* * *

Looking from her window she could see only the back of him, standing completely still; not the slightest shift in the contour of muscles under the tight white tee. She found herself wondering how her father could work under such close scrutiny, everyday the intimidating Prince would stand there, just outside the domed capsule and watch him at work.

At times she would stroll past pretending to be oblivious so she would know what was going on, the alien Prince never talked to her, not really; in fact he hardly paid her any attention. But when she was near enough at times when his curiosity got the best of him she would catch a question thrown at her father. 

She wondered if it was his distrustful nature that made him watch them all so closely, even at mealtimes he would wait for one of them to take the first bite. She didn't expect him to trust them immediately, but he had been living here for a few months if she counted before the Nameks left, couldn't he see that they had no ill intentions? 

He was polite, more so then she'd expected, he never said 'please' or 'thank you', in fact he didn't speak much at all; but he kept to himself not causing any problems, she once saw him hold the door open for her mother. 

Bulma smiled as she remembered her mothers giggle, made her sound like a school girl she thought. It was rather obvious Vegeta didn't mean to hold the door, just a case of bad timing, she was sure that was the first time he had been called a 'charming Prince'. 

A light rosy hue had splashed his cheeks, had left her wondering how he could be so… cute? Yet so cold and indifferent.  
Her mother adored him and her father, if she didn't know any better she would say he treated Vegeta like the son he never had. She felt a little left out. 

She just wanted his attention, wanted to be noticed. All her life she was one to be noticed, be it for her beauty or her intellect; she was always the centre of attention. But with Vegeta she was brushed aside, ignored; in a way it almost made her jealous of the others, Goku, Gohan, Krillin, her parents, even Piccolo. They were all given some acknowledgement, bad or good? from the Saiyan Prince. 

She watched as he slowly turned and looked up towards her, there was no change in his usual stoic expression making her suspect that he knew all along she was watching him. With a nervous smile she waved at him, just as she did every morning; and he turned away. 

She shrugged her shoulders and proceeded to get prepared for the day. 

* * *

An hour quickly passed after Bulma decided she'd needed to give her hair a few extra washes, but she was in no immediate rush, she wanted to make the best of the only day she had off in the week. Her first and foremost ideals were comfort.

She rubbed the excess water from her curly blue locks with her towel; her hair had grown a great deal since the perm. She sighed, the style was beginning to bore her; she missed running her fingers through the thin smooth strands. 

Feeling her hair was dry enough she dropped the small towel to the floor, she then moved toward her wardrobe to look for the most 'comfortable' sweatshirt she owned. She had already donned a pair of worn looking, but comfy sweatpants and a cotton wireless bra. The grey oversized sweatshirt was found, and immediately pulled on. 

Completing her task of dressing, she shifted to her knees and peered under her bed. She manoeuvred herself a little lower reaching with her whole body now, and with a satisfied huff she pulled herself from under the bed holding a pair of pink and white bunny slippers. 

She slipped them on and let out a small giggle, it had been a while since she'd last worn these, and it made her feel like a little girl again. It was hard to believe there was a time before all the seriousness, a time when they had all been happy and carefree. 

She sometimes wished Goku was still the strange 'human' boy with a tail. 

Knowing where this trail of thoughts was leading, she quickly shut them out her mind, today was about her, and relaxation. With a determined look on her face she exited her room, only to dash back in to collect her personal CD player. It was an old thing, outdated by today's standards, but she felt a sense of sentiment for it, and it worked; that's all that mattered. Beside's she had done some tinkering with it, made some modifications. 

She picked out a suitable CD from one of her vast collections remembering that her father had given it to her. 

When she was younger, her and her father would sometimes sit in his den listening to his classical music collection, she had shown a distinct liking for Mozart's 'Requiem', even at such a young age understanding its beauty; her father had given it to her thus was the begins of her collection. 

She was saddened a little, the bond with her father had dissipated over the years; she felt distant now and a little lonely. She exited the room once again, her mood downtrodden; but she realised she hadn't really been in 'that' good a mood to begin with. 

* * *

Her first guess had been that the kitchen was deserted, but as she stepped further into the room she immediately discovered that she wasn't alone. Stood by the large sink was Vegeta, downing a glass of water. He turned his head to look at her, giving her a once over before settling on her slippers. He raised a sculpted brow and she shrugged as if to say 'so, what of it'.

Happy to see there was still some coffee left over, Bulma switched on the machine to re-heat. She decided to try her luck with Vegeta. 

"Ohayo Vegeta." He deliberately ignored her, turning the tap on to refill his glass. She wondered if he knew there was cold water in the fridge, but she chose not to comment; instead she tried her luck again with small talk. 

"So how come your not with my dad this morning?" 

He turned this time, eyeing her suspiciously before he answered; "Hn you really don't know." He sounded genuinely surprised, "Stupid human." He turned back to the sink and his water, completely shutting her out. 

She sighed forcefully and stomped (the best she could with bunny slippers) to the coffee machine, deciding the coffee was hot enough she grabbed a cup and poured the black liquid in sloppily, somehow managing not to spill any. 

After getting no reaction from Vegeta she stormed out the kitchen, she swore she heard him chuckle. She pushed all thoughts of Vegeta out of her mind; she would lie down on the sofa and chill out listening to Mozart. Laughing softly she realised her mishap, 'chill out?' she was beginning to sound like Krillin. 

Sipping the coffee she wrinkled her nose in distaste, in her haste to leave the kitchen she had forgotten both milk and sugar. But she was not about to give in and turn back. She opened the living room door, absently wondering why it was closed in the first place. 

"SURPRISE!" 

Her cup of coffee fell to the floor as she was met with the faces of her friends and family, she let out a frightened yelp, seeing a mental image of herself in her mind; she looked a mess! 

She sprinted from the room as fast as her slipper clad feet could carry her, tears of humiliation running down her cheeks. Bounding up the stairs she pushed passed a startled Vegeta, almost falling in the process; finally reaching her room she slammed the door shut behind her, immediately locking it. 

She could remember telling her parents, she wanted no celebration for her 27th. 

* * *

**So there's the first chap, please tell me what you think.  
****I am hoping to have the next chap posted by next week, but I can't promise anything. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Take My Hand **

A/N – A Bulma/Vegeta Get together, a short fic on how they're friendship grew. The idea came to me whilst listening to 'Dido – Take My Hand', it's not a song fic but I have based the fic on the song. 

I want to thank you all for your wonderful reviews :) 

Rating – Strong PG-13 

Warnings – Violence – err, cruelty to animals. You have been warned! 

Disclaimer – I do not own Dragon Ball Z or any of the characters, nor do I own 'Dido – Take My Hand'. 

* * *

Vegeta was enraged, fuming. He had been pushed aside, uncaringly, as if his needs were of no consequence. It was that blue haired brats birthday and suddenly everything had to be put on hold, they were forgetting who the real royalty was; even if he was the prince of a dead race.

The construction of his Gravity room was coming along fine, the old man was doing his job surprisingly well for a man of his race. And as far as Vegeta could tell he was doing it with no ill-intentions. 

But there was a whisper of a voice in his mind telling him he was letting his guard down, beginning to get too comfortable, he had learnt in his past that people didn't do things unless they were getting something in return. After all he'd heard the saying: Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. 

He struggled internally, resisting the urge to blow something up. From a very young age his short fuse was well known, his father would often give him a good scolding after one of his _destructive_ temper tantrums; but he had come to learn some semblance of control on Frieza's ship, punishment there was a **lot** more severe. 

He finished up some light kata, sensing the approach of some of the Z senshi. He had made it clear to the old man that he wanted nothing to do with this. A distinct energy signature put him on alert; a low dangerous growl escaped him. 

"Kakarot!" 

A brief splash of teal shimmered in his eyes, completely unnoticed by him, he angrily marched towards the French doors; disappearing into the kitchen as his arch rival and family appeared. A trail of footprints scorched into the grass and a few frightened assistant technicians mumbling 'akuma' the only sign he'd been there. 

He grabbed a large glass from the cupboard, turned the cold tap on and let it run till it was cold. He had checked in the fridge before during his stay here and seen the vast assortment of beverages, it had done nothing but confuse him. He had not completely learned to read and write in this tongue. But he was happy enough using the tap. 

He kept his back to the door as people rushed in and out to prepare, a few greetings were mumbled to him, but word spread that he was not in a particularly good mood after the glass he held in a vice grip was shattered; he was soon left alone.

* * *

Soon enough there was complete silence, if he didn't count the hushed whispers coming from the living room; he still could not get his head around such a pointless celebration. What was the point in surprising someone for they're birthday, surely they already knew what day it was?

He selected another glass from the cupboard and went back to the sink, the glass he had shattered lay scattered in the silver of the sink, specs of crimson dotted the sides. He looked at his hand, the wound was almost gone; it had been so long since he had seen his blood. It felt almost alien to him. 

He let the water run, washing away the dark red, then filled his glass. 

His ears picked up muffled footsteps approaching the kitchen, he knew who it was; he found no need to turn around. Instead he continued to drink his water. Once he finished the contents of the glass he turned to look at her, becoming increasingly annoyed, he silently wondered if she had wedged it into her daily regime to constantly stare at him several times a day. 

Her choice of attire seemed rather _different_ from usual. She wore on her feet something that resembled a stuffed mammal; it appeared to be one of those animals her parents kept in the gardens, or rather an imitation. _Why would anyone want to wear fake **stuffed** animals on their feet?_  
Looking at her, he briefly reflected that this was not his world; he saw no need to learn, nor embrace their ways. Once Kakarot was defeated, this planet and its inhabitants would be dust. Why settle on a doomed planet? 

He went back to his water ignoring her attempt at 'making conversation'; these ningens were becoming too comfortable with him. It wasn't until she spoke again that he turned. He did not know what kind of game she was playing but he didn't like it, he couldn't tell if she was feigning ignorance, or if she was just plain stupid. He could still here the hushed voices coming from the other room, and even if her inferior hearing couldn't pick up the sounds, surely the eerily quiet atmosphere put her on alert? 

Choosing not to waste his time on her, he re-filled his glass. 

Knowing no progress would be made on his upcoming Gravity Room, he decided it would be best if he found something to occupy his time. He needed a distraction, something to put his mind off… things. Having too much free time put him in a pensive mood; time meant he could 'reflect' on things.  
To be quite honest, he didn't know what to do; he was a fish out of water. 

Being here in this place, made him feel trapped; claustrophobic almost. It reminded him so much of being on the mother ship, the walls, the corridors; the echo. Sometimes when he woke, he would feel he was still there; then reality would set again and he'd notice the generously decorated room, the sun creeping through the curtains. 

The worst thing was, he wasn't sure if he was relieved or not. 

Perhaps the thrill of a hunt would put him at ease for now. He could go for a fly, away from this place, all he wanted was a little distraction.  
He didn't know much about this planet, nor its animals. But he would search for the most ferocious of beasts to slay. 

Staring at his half empty glass of water, he slowly poured it down the drain. 

He made his way from the kitchen, heading straight for his bedroom. Before he went anywhere he wanted to change first, these human clothes were uncomfortable and got in the way; just like everything else on this ridiculous planet. 

Half way up the stairs he heard a piercing shout of '_surprise_', then a loud smash. The situation would have been extremely comical, if he had not just been shoved out the way by the emotional blue haired brat. 

For a few moments he only saw red. 

Never had a creature with such a low power level even touched him, let alone had the gall to remove him from their path. He wanted to go after her, show her what happens to individuals who dare cross his path.  
He turned his head as he heard another set of footsteps bounding up the stairs, and just as the scar-faced coward attempted to push past him, he grabbed him by the neck; holding him flat against the railing. 

A low growl rumbled from his chest and he stepped forward so he was almost nose to nose with Yamcha, and he ground out in a deadly voice, "For some reason you humans seem to think the prince of Saiya-jins can be pushed around."  
Yamcha struggled fruitlessly, clawing at his hand; Vegeta only chuckled darkly and added a little more pressure. 

This was beginning to become familiar to him; he could vaguely remember himself in the human's place, with an ice-cold thick white tail coiled around his throat; his pathetic attempts at clawing at the thick seemingly unbreakable skin.  
The sound of feminine laughter.  
He could feel the phantom pains, feel every crushing blow delivered to his back; each one more painful then the last. 

"Vegeta put him down." 

His arch-rival was stood at the foot of the stairs; the expression on his face was almost Saiya-jin, if it wasn't for those eyes. As his awareness began to swim back, Vegeta now noted the spectators, disgusted by his show of weakness he released Yamcha and glared at them warily; then he continued his journey towards his room.

* * *

Upon having reached his destination his clothes were literally torn off and replaced by his old, worn purging uniform. The uniform itself held its own memory's, if not from the smell of old crusted blood, then from the holes and scars marring it.  
This uniform was what his life was before he died.

He fingered the smallish hole on the breast plate of his armour; the hole that continued through his bodysuit. He found it rather ironic that from all of the fatal wounds he'd accumulated in his lifetime, the one he'd actually died from had left him no scar. The tattered uniform his only confident; it seems that death saw fit to try and swindle him. 

Chuckling to himself darkly, he leapt from his window. 

He let himself fall, closing his eyes and feeling the wind try and capture him, then at the last minute he ignited himself in a burst of ki and shot upwards; tearing through the walls of gravity with ease.  
He flew higher so he could touch the clouds, never before had he come across a planet with this colouring… the purest of whites, to the darkest of greys. And despite their at times, soft warm appearance, they were cold to the touch and felt almost like soft ice.  
It made him wonder what else on this planet was not as it seemed. 

During his flight he found himself almost 'liking' the colour scheme of the planet. The greens, whites and blues seemed to mix well, he pondered that maybe Nappa was right, this planet would be worth a lot in the trade; it would such a shame to waste it. He chuckled again then increased his speed. 

Everything became a blur, colours swirling and mixing, the gentle breeze became harsh and biting. And then he stopped.  
He slowly let himself descend, the clouds were thicker here, colder; perhaps it would rain soon. The area around was dense, but not overly so; the trees around were spaced enough to give him moving space. 

He could smell something, a strong musk; he was on marked territory. 

As his feet touched down on the soft leafy ground a low growling reached his ears. A wide grin immediately appeared on his face, he was not sure just how strong this beast was, or even what it looked like; but from the smell it was emitting, he could tell it was male.  
He crouched and lowered his power to almost nothing.  
It was then he saw a glimpse of something, orange, black. It was strange how as of late, his enemy's, rivals seemed to come in orange; a colour he had never truly been fond of.  
The creature was skilled in the 'hunt' it seemed, perhaps if he were human he would have missed it. The animal fully emerged, its coat contrasting with the lush green forest. It seemed to know he had seen it. 

The animal was large, larger then he in fact; a thick pelt of gold/orange with dark brown patterned stripes, a white underbelly. It walked on four strong muscled legs; it must've at least been six feet in length. But what captured Vegeta's attention the most were its fierce, hungry orange eyes; he admitted to himself that it was a handsome beast.  
The creature circled him, sizing him up, its tail lashed wildly behind him; it almost reminded him of that creature that sat atop of the old mans shoulders, only a larger and fiercer version… a 'Kitty'. 

Although he no longer had his tail, he could still sense the unspoken tail signals, it sensed he wasn't human, but it still saw him as food; it seemed this creature wanted this fight as much as he did.  
It bared its teeth and let out an angered hiss before pushing off with its strong back legs leaping towards him. Vegeta was forced to reconsider his defence as he realised the animal had the ability of retractable claws; he dodged at the last minute.  
The animal skidded to a halt and lunged towards him again, swiping its huge paw at Vegeta's seemingly vulnerable throat. He took this opportunity to grab the outstretched paw and tossed the beast away like it was nothing; he watched with a childlike glee in his eyes as it got up shakily and let out a thunderous echoing roar. 

He smirked, clearly understanding the challenge; this was no longer a fight for food. The animal backed away silently, slowly disappearing into the forest, but Vegeta wasn't foolish enough to believe it had run, this was a proud creature. He too stepped into the surrounding forest.  
It was dark, the tall thick trees blocked the main source of light; although he could still see very clearly, Vegeta thought it best to rely on other senses, instinct told him so. He knew he was being watched, followed, so he decided against creeping though the trees, and instead moved towards a small river he caught sight of earlier. 

The area around the water was more open, thus giving him the advantage of seeing his opponent first. What he did not expect was the creature to leap from beneath the surface, landing on him with what would have been bone-crushing force if he were human. Before he could react, a large paw struck his side, cracking his armour, then he felt long claws sliding into his flesh; he could feel the claws were hooked securely, holding him in place. He was lifted a few inches then thrown back to the ground; like a plaything. 

An outraged cry tore from his throat, **the prince of Saiya-jins was no 'plaything'!**

****

* * *

**A/N - We'll know what 'happened' (future tense), next chap. I saw no need to drag this on.**

Akuma – Devil 

I'll try to get the next chap posted soon! :) 


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